She is Mahina,
Of the sea, the moana,
The mahina piha.
Some say,
whisper,
She descends
from Hina,
And others
gossip, snicker,
Of her scales.
Black ascends,
Mahina hou blossoms
While she slips
under,
Slithering
against sea walls.
The kai hugs Mahina,
The Queen Lili`uokalani
Of Atlantis.
She sleeps.
Pō is born so she rests,
Blanketed by limu lipoa.
However,
Her mind
wanders,
to a cave she
swims,
now in the realm
of forbidden dreams.
A single cello
strums,
Deceiving,
Daunting sleep
with death.
Nails
scratching,
Sliding down a
dusty chalkboard,
The screams ring
her ears,
Mahina in deep sleep.
A man enters,
His people call
him King,
Their voices
echo the cave chamber,
Shouting,
squealing “King Henry!”,
But she calls
him Kāne.
Kāne strides to Mahina,
Breath biting,
cold,
Behind him
leaving an icicle
Shaped on barren
rock.
She sees a
spirit poisoned and foul,
Intentions
devious,
Danger tickles
at her tail.
Kāne comes,
In hand
“trinkets” he says.
Mahina gazes, cautious yet curious.
Disappointed
soon,
She sees a can
of paint, of red,
A deep crimson
from Italy.
On top, in
silver,
A can opener
from Spain.
In his mouth,
Left cool from
frigid breath,
A straw,
flexible, bending
Up towards
piercing eyes,
Eager to
convince.
Hands steadily
Hold velvet cake
pieces
Perfectly
sliced.
From each,
falling to the floor
Are crumbs,
delicate.
Mahina follows the crumbs
To notice more,
Silly string
bottles scattered,
A telephone, red
as well,
A sprinkler
turned on high,
Spraying
furiously more cold.
At Kāne’s feet, covered in gold,
A kite wrapped,
A kitten
trapped,
A painting of
the Arabian Desert
That he boasts
was gifted to the President,
To Obama by the
IRS,
And now lays
with him,
Propped erect in
a jewel filled sand bucket.
And lastly,
Left dangling
from his neck,
A pendant, where
placed
Is the picture
of a lighthouse,
One he says she
can call home.
He is foolish,
For Mahina knows her home,
The moana.
A roaring sound
rips through,
Coming from
behind Kāne.
In flies
proudly,
A Batman-like
shadow.
The people yell
“Abhishek!”,
But she prefers Me`e.
He soars
heroically,
Floats down and
clutches Mahina.
One swift turn
and they flee,
Captured by a
true man,
She is warm.
Around the neck
of Me`e,
A necklace
bearing the face of
George
Washington,
A hero in his
eyes.
Mahina smiles soft,
And then she
wakes.
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